When Elastigirl is Nowhere to be Found

Blue’s Clues is pumping too loudly in my right ear. The attractive, large library headphones are strategically placed on my head. One ear is covered thereby enabling me to follow the pre-school computer game. Simultaneously, the remaining ear tunes in to my two year old running around the child’s section as he manages to annoy his big sister.

Nearly every time we visit this library my memory fails me. We walk in the doors to the children’s section and it hits me. The computers. Oh, drat.

It really wouldn’t bother me except for one, little thing. Posted on the wall, hangs a sign indicating that caregivers must sit with the child at the computer the entire time. I admit this rule keeps the equipment from destruction at the hands of small children. My problem lies in location. Being that I do not possess Superman’s x-ray vision, nor Elastigirl’s ever-stretching arms, the location of my current position has this mother of two at a disadvantage. How exactly am I to stay seated “at all times” next to my daughter while keeping a close watch on the boy who runs to the other end of the room? That’s right. The computers are at one end of the room while the books and an unlocked door are at the other. Elastigirl, where are you?

The best part is when I call for the child who seems to have gone missing and no verbal response is heard. However, I can hear squeal-giggle-tramp-tramp-tramp-tramp-tramp-bang-bang-bang, A Invisi-boy runs through the rows of books knocking several on the floor. It’s at those moments I think to myself “Well, the library has requested that we not re-shelve anything ourselves.” Revenge? Noooo. Justice? Perhaps.

What’s a mother to do? Get a leash and listen to him bark his complaints from my chair? I’ve tried the puzzles. I’ve tried the stuffed animals and puppets. But then it comes to me like an all too familiar epiphany. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. HE’S TWO. HE’S ALL BOY. Therefore, his attention span and ability to sit still last for about two minutes.” He has no matches, no scissors, pens, markers or crayons. We are in the children’s library. As long as I don’t hear the ripping of pages, I suppose I’ll attempt to be calm. I’ll simply listen to the lull of that high-pitched, mumbly dog talking in my ear.

Maybe I should have a sign posted as I enter. “This Mother not responsible for wreckage caused by two year old while sibling is at computer. For questions, please see sign on wall.”

By Shelby Rawson

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